Taniel (The Taverner's Daughter I)

48: Taniel visits Aunt Rita

I was halfway into my nightdress when I changed my mind about not wanting to talk to anyone else that night. I felt shaky after my encounter with Dax.

Jarryd warned me that rogue wizards might try to take me but I knew, after such a close look at him, Dax was my dragonrider's brother. Their physical differences were superficial. They might be twins.

I donned trousers and a shirt, having decided to visit Aunt Rita. Now, more than ever, I wanted to know why this was happening to me. How could I sleep not knowing why I was a dragonrider? It was laughable, really, calling myself that since I would never be assigned to dragonriding duties.

I buckled the row of straps crossing the fronts of my boots. My dragonrider boots, I sighed, the closest I thought to become a rider. The leather sat comfortably about my feet, the result of months of painful tramping. When I pulled the trouser legs down over them, they were just like any other stout footwear.

I studied my face in the mirror, seeing parts of both Father and his sister on me. I could not be adopted so why had they lied about dragonrider blood.

I shuttered the lamp and went to the window. All seemed quiet in the moonlit yard. I climbed out, leaving the latch loose in case I wanted to return that way. Keeping to the shadows, I slipped into the cow paddock and followed the boundary fence until I reached the creek where it ran under the main road. I clambered over the stile, scooted across the bridge and made my way to the Herrick's' home, a short walk away.

Lights burned from the front room. As I pushed open the rickety gate, my quest no longer seemed such a good idea. What if something had gone wrong with the birth: my arrival would be untimely. I backed up, pulling the gate closed, and stood staring at the house, undecided.

"Tan?" A soft voice came from the darkness of the porch.

I started.

"Tan, is that you, girlie?" A chair scraped on the porch boards. Mr Herrick appeared on the top step, an unlit pipe in one hand. "It is you," he said, his broad smile gleaming in the moonlight. "Do you want Rita? Go right in. She's bathing the muck of me lad. Your auntie did a fine job."

"Congratulations, Mr Herrick. I'm sure your wife did good, too," I said, returning his smile, and walking up the path.

"She did, lass, she did, and hardly screeched at all. Go right in. I'm having a puff while they clean up. Women's business, you know." He pushed the front door open and gestured for me to enter.

My aunt had taken the newborn out of a small tub on the kitchen table and was patting him dry when I went in. Alarm crossed her face, making her eyes pop.

"Nothing is wrong." I spoke quickly. "I just needed to talk to you and I can't wait until the morrow."

My words trailed away. The baby had the tiniest fingernails I had ever soon. Skinny arms waved. Little fingers stretched and clenched into tiny fists.

Aunt Rita wrapped the baby and kissed his forehead. "Not long, little one. Now you're all snuggly, you can meet your Ma and Grandma." One of the little hands found the way into his mouth and he sucked noisily. "You are a strong one," she cooed, tucking his arm back in. She tightened the wrap. His head swivelled to the side, his brow wrinkled, and his lips puckered around small sounds.

"Is he all right?" My voice sounded strange to my ears. I cleared my throat.

"He's hungry," Aunt Rita said.

Something woke inside of me and I wondered what it would be like to have my own baby: Jarryd's baby. Ever since he had told me of my fate, the thought of babies had never been far from my mind, but as something to avoid. Now, the sounds of the newborn seemed to stimulate an unexpected maternal instinct.

"Are you feeling clucky?" Aunt's big eyes looked at me, thoughtful. "Do you want to hold him?"

"Oh no, Aunt Rita." Sidling towards the door, I found myself gabbling. "I better go. I shouldn't have come. You're busy. I'll see you when you get home."

"If you wait a few minutes, I'll come with you. Old Mother Herrick's is here, so I'm not needed, now." She peered at me. "Give me a minute. You can help speed things up a bit - empty that water into the barrel outside and hang the towel up." She nodded at a door by the fireplace and pointed to a rail as she took the baby into the bedroom.

I tidied the kitchen. I waited.

Once we had said our goodbyes through the pipe smoke to Mr Herrick, my aunt took my arm and almost dragged me down the porch steps, and out to the street.

"What's going on Tan?" she said. "What has you all in a dither? So much so, that you had to come in the night," she whispered loudly. She stopped suddenly and swung me around so that the moon dazzled me. "Has Peter got you with child? Is that what that look was about?"

I laughed at her, and shook my head. It would be handy to be expecting, since Jarryd was still interested. He had called me sweetheart. He would want to marry me, if I carried his child. Then there was Peter. If he loved me, as Father insisted he did, then perhaps I could talk him back into the dragonriders.

"Tan?" Aunt Rita jostled me. "Taniel."

"Peter? No, of course not! I need to tell you and Father something. It's not that."

"About the wedding?"

"Sort of. Can we wait until we're home, please?"

"Come on then. Quick. I'll make us a hot drink."

We walked briskly along the street until we let ourselves in at the side gate at the corner of the tavern. The exterior kitchen door was locked, so we had to go the long way around to the back door. Containing her curiosity with fortitude, Aunt Rita put milk in a saucepan and placed it on the hottest part of the banked down range. I dropped dollops of honey into two mugs.

"We'll go to our sitting room to talk. You mind the milk while I run in and tell Hanrey that I'm home. Don't you worry, dear, whatever it is, it will be all right."

She gave me a hug and before I could respond, she dashed off to speak to Father. This time of the night, with Peter tending to drinks, Father probably was already settled into playing cards with his friends. Sometimes they played until the dawn surprised them. I smiled. Father got grumpy after such all-nighters.

Tear welled. I did not want to leave Father. I poured hot milk into the mugs and blended in the honey. I sniffed and jabbed at my eyes with my sleeve. I would miss Aunt Rita, too. She returned as I filled the milky pot with cold water.

Answers were imminent, at last.

***

21 March 2017 - replaced with revised scene.

Thanks for reading.

Vote?

Comment?